Real commender

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Deep down and slide out a way,
Ephemeron caught silk piece spray.
Dressing up to fall as leggy sock,
She stretched, black hair prisoned by rock.
Nights grovel to sneak in commender,
Fists close up, rose facing a warrior.
Forcing petals to bloom,
Her eyes destined being gloom.
Call my name, he failed,
You catch me, she touched.
Laughing, darkness vanished in him,
Smoky circles twist her grim.
Only count her song of moaning,
Is the commend to a morning.

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